“Really?” I said. “You’re not interested in nature?” When I was their age it was pretty much all I cared about—that and stealing and spying on people. I told them about the hideous-looking silver possum who’d climbed up the front stairs of the house last Thanksgiving. “We fed her fruit and leftovers, and you should have seen the way her hands grabbed the food, almost like a human. Every night she came.” Austin politely but vacantly said, “Wow.”
